


I Th(Ink) I Know How This One Ends

by Faetality



Series: You Th(Ink) You Know This One [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hunter Peter Hale, M/M, Tattoo Artist Stiles Stilinski, Tattooed Peter Hale, Tattooed Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Chris Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23462458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faetality/pseuds/Faetality
Summary: “Actually, that’s where it gets complicated. It’s a design of a more personal nature.” And that was how it all began. With a sultry smirk and a gesture far higher up the leg than it had any right to go.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: You Th(Ink) You Know This One [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687849
Comments: 16
Kudos: 506





	I Th(Ink) I Know How This One Ends

**Author's Note:**

> There will be no improper use of a tattoo chair in this fic. Some people are professional. Enjoy.

Stiles had favorites. He had his clients who walked through the door and his brain started going a mile a minute with ideas and excitement before they even got the request out of their mouth. He had clients whose bodies were perfect for sprawling portraits and he had clients who sat in his chair and chartered along about  _ everything  _ while sitting as still as stone. Yeah, Stiles had favorites. He never pretended otherwise. 

Peter Hale was one of those favorites. The first time he walked through the door of Mischief Ink. Stiles had half a mind to toss him out. The smirk, the clothes, the  _ energy _ about him screamed “Hunter”. But, the man had a face like a Michaelangelo sculpture and the body of Adonis and Stiles was more curious than was healthy so he didn’t and what a  _ damn  _ good decision that had been. That first tattoo had been simple, a rune of protection from poisons just above the ribs. The ten after it had simply built from that and the five after that finally took some color.

So when Peter walked through the door Stiles knew he was in for a treat. They sat in the side room that Stiles called the “Thinking Room” and got comfortable. 

“What are you thinking?” 

“I want a thigh piece.”  _ Well, that’s new.  _

“Okay, are you wanting swiftness? Protection? Come on, Peter you know how this works.” 

“Actually, that’s where it gets complicated. It’s a design of a more personal nature.” And that was how it all began. With a sultry smirk and a gesture far higher up the leg than it had any right to go.  _ Swiftness. Loyalty. A Fleur de lis in the center. Protection. Healing. Ecstasy.  _

It’s a design Stiles is proud of, looking at it printed on his desk. When the bell above the door chimes Stiles grins and heads to meet the man. He was the last appointment of the day, as per usual. Didn’t want anyone out of the know to hear something ‘concerning’. “Hey, Peter! Ready to take your pants off?” 

Peter’s not alone. Peter was standing at the desk, grinning like a fool and he was  _ not  _ **alone.** Stiles could die. “Uh, hey.”

“Christopher, this is Stiles. Stiles, this is Christopher, my partner.” The way ‘partner’ rolled off the man’s tongue made it clear that it wasn’t a partnership in  _ business.  _ He refused to feel disappointed about that. “I was wondering if you’d be alright with Chris sitting in on our session today. He’s been curious.” 

“Wanting any ink yourself?” Stiles has to ask. The man was  _ gorgeous _ in an entirely different way than Peter was. Where Peter was broad-  _ perfect for getting pinned underneath-  _ Chris was lithe, muscles making the way the sleeves cling to his upper body obscene in the afternoon light-  _ perfect for clinging to _ . Where Peter had hands made for handling, Chris looked like he could keep you on the edge for hours.  _ Get a grip, Stilinski.  _

_ “ _ Nah, not me. Maybe one day, but this is all Peter.” 

“A shame. You’d look good with a side piece.” 

“Is that an offer?” 

He rethinks what he said and feels heat flush his cheeks.  _ He’s not- no- Peter is standing right there. There’s no way- okay. You’re at work. Get to work.  _

“You know the drill, usual room, I’m just gonna need you to sign off on the design and I’ll print out out the stencil and we can get started.” Peter signs the form without reading it, but his eyes linger on the design. “Something you don’t like?” 

“No- just, I’d like you to work in some white ink detailing. I should have mentioned it before.”

“No, it’s alright. I can freehand it.” 

“Well, aren’t you amazing.” 

“Always. Now go sit down.” 

Peter was wearing deep maroon briefs that left nothing to the imagination and he sat in the chair like a king on a throne. Chris was looking at the wall of inks. “Okay, stand up so I can get the placement right.” with the hunter standing and Stiles in his own chair… well it was an interesting set up. He was eye level with the man’s naval.  _ Working. Working. On the job. His boyfriend is standing right behind you.  _ “All good?” 

“Perfect.”

He starts with the side, Peter facing away from him. “You can sit down, Chris.”

“I’m alright for now, thank you. How long have you been doing tattoos?”    
“Ten years. Supernatural side of it all came in about eight years ago though. So, how did you two meet?” the buzzing of the machine lulled him, let him settle into a rhythm and turn off the over thinking part of his brain. He pauses to wipe the ink. 

Peter is good about not moving when he talks. “We met at a bar, actually, a few nights before a full moon. Let’s just say it was a wild ride.” 

“You a hunter too?” It’s directed at Chris. “Sort of. I’m a consultant.” 

The conversation flowed easily after that. They talked about books and movies, Peter once again demanding that Stiles was a heathen for not having seen the latest classic’s remake, he learned that Chris had the ability to make Peter shift in what others might call embarrassment- but Peter Hale didn’t know that emotion. He learned that Chris was a blank canvas, something that made him want even more to get the man into a chair. 

“Okay, roll over for me?” 

It’s all going fine until Chris starts talking again. 

“Yeah, I told him he should wait on this one.”

“Oh?” 

“Told him we couldn’t have pool sex if he got a tattoo right at the beginning of the warm season.” Years of practice kept him from gouging a line through the design. He shifted, crossed his ankles, swallowed, and kept going. “It’s a shame too, just got the damn thing uncovered. But, things we do for love I suppose.” 

“You seemed very upset over it when I was riding you on the deck as an apology for my decision making.” 

It became very clear how close his head was to Peter’s briefs in that moment. How close his lips were to skin with how he was angled. He tries not to breathe too deeply.

“Uh, guys? I do need to focus here. Not that I don’t love the conversation and whatnot.” 

“What kind of spell was this again?”    
“Protection and Healing mostly, it’s supposed to help anchor balance as well as heighten senses.” he uses his free hand to push Peter’s thigh a bit wider, starting on the inside. The man hisses. 

“I think we’ll have a lot of fun with that one. Don’t you?”  _ He’s going to be the death of me.  _ He’d thought Peter had a mouth on him. “You can ask him to spread his legs wider. It’s not difficult for him. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” now  _ that  _ was a sex voice. Chris’s tone dropped an octave as he drawled the words, each one like a punch to the gut for the young man with the needle in his hand. 

“I- look, guys.”

“Stiles. It’s a yes or no. Say no and we’ll drop it, you can finish my design in peace, and we’ll leave without mentioning it again. But if it’s a yes, say it.”

“But aren’t you two? Y’know- uh-”   
“We are. But Peter has told me a lot about you, Stiles. I’d like to get to know you first hand myself, after all- we’ve both seen Peter stripped down. I’m curious about what’s hiding beneath all those layers on you.” 

“Okay, look I’m into it. I’m so down but I gotta work and Peter can’t move.” 

“He doesn’t have to. He’s good, he can stay still and I promise I don’t have to touch to play. Is that alright with you?” 

“Um, yeah. Peter? You’re the one getting stabbed here.”

“Only for now.” Stiles snorts. “Okay, sure.” Chris leaves the room and despite the confusion it lets Stiles make progress. 

“Chris is intense. If you need him to slow down just let me know.” It’s softer than anything Stiles had ever heard Peter say. 

“Thanks, Peter.” 

Chris came back, two bottles of water in his hands. 

“So, how versatile are you?”

“Very.”

“Good. Peter is too.”

“And what about you?”

“I only bottom for Peter.”

Stiles wiped the ink and plasma from Peter’s thigh. “I need you to turn on your stomach.” Before Peter could lay back down Stiles stops him with a hand on his hip. “Hold on, let me get a pillow. You can’t rest your thigh on the bench.” The pillow was placed under the man’s hips and the task resumed. Chris stood and came to stand just behind him once more. Usually Stiles would hate the hovering. This wasn’t usual. 

“Do you think he’s pretty, Stiles?” Chris’ voice was pitched low and, despite the small size of the room Stiles wondered if Peter could hear him. Pretty wasn’t a word Stiles had ever thought of to describe the hunter. Handsome, wild, rugged, devilish. All words he’d described Peter with at one point or another but  _ pretty? _ Then he thought about the length of his lashes, the way he would tip his chin and smile.

“ _ Yeah.”  _ Peter was pretty. 

“He’s even prettier when he’s on his knees. He likes to pretend he’s tough but he just wants someone to take care of him. How about you? Do you want to be taken care of?” Peter shifted beneath his hands and Stiles dodged the question with a quiet “stay still.” 

Chris just kept talking. “When he’s done here, maybe you’ll get to see him.” He licked his lips, focused on the curve of a line. “Or maybe you’d rather taste him. Make  _ him  _ whine.” 

“Have you ever thought about recording books? The adult entertainment industry would pay you a fortune.” The laugh that Chris gave was more distracted than the words. 

“Okay, so I just need to do the white ink on the fleur de lis and we’re done. Roll back over and bend your knee a bit for me.”  _ At least I’m not the only one affected.  _

The last bit took less than fifteen minutes. When it was all over he considered his handiwork and told Peter to stand and see it for himself. The interlocking lines pulsed with a bit of power and Stiles felt tired. 

“As always, it’s perfect Stiles.” The praise felt high coming from Peter. “Chris? What do you think?” 

“I think it looks great.” Stiles watched as Chris pulled Peter into a gentle kiss, then he started to clean. “You know the care instructions but for policy sake- no swimming, no baths, don’t scratch it, and the bandage stays on until tomorrow night.” He wipes off the chair and holds up the clear bandage. “Now come here so we can get this party started.” 

Stiles was too professional to let anything happen in his studio. “My place or yours?” Chris grins, “Mine. 4Runner in the parking lot. Come out when you’re done closing up.” 

*

Chris owned a house fifteen minutes outside of downtown, he locked the door behind them and Stiles had all of a minute to admire the decor before Peter was crowding him against the wall. The first kiss was electrifying, Stiles just clung to his shirt and let the tension leave him. This? This he could do. 

“How about we move this party to the bedroom?” 

Stiles was the first one stripped- shirts on the floor and left in nothing but his briefs while Peter got his own shirt off. There was something about seeing someone with your work on their body, the bunch and release of muscle with  _ your _ craftsmanship as they stalked toward you. But Stiles had seen Peter before, it was different and he was _ stunning _ but it wasn’t a surprise. 

Chris though… he watched them from the side before grinning a predator's grin that Stiles had only ever seen from Peter. Then he was stripping his shirt over his head and both younger men were staring. Chris wasn’t built like Peter and he wasn’t a runner’s build like Stiles. He was all sharp lines of muscle. He stripped completely and stood, considering the two men before him. “I think you should show Stiles some appreciation. What do you think, Stiles? Would you like to see what else that mouth is good for?” 

“Please.”

Peter slid off the bed and onto the plush carpet, tilting his chin up with a cocky glint in his eyes. Stiles let himself be stripped the rest of the way and hesitantly he brushed fingers through the man’s hair and spread his thighs wider. 

Peter’s mouth was heaven and hell all at once. He kitten licked the head, hands coming to rest on Stiles's thighs as he took him further. Stiles’ hips jerked upward in tiny, aborted thrusts. The bed dipped behind him and too hot hands gripped his hips. “You know, he’s such a sight like this. He just gets so desperate with it. He won’t even care if you choke him, in fact” stubble dragged along the curve of his shoulder, “I think he might even like it. So how about you give him what he wants? Hm? I’ll let go of you and you just go right ahead and fuck his pretty mouth.” If Peter was a devil then Chris was  _ the  _ Devil. The man slid fingers down his arm until the too were in Peter’s hair, then he  _ jerked _ ; Peter’s nose pressed against his skin and Chris dropped a kiss to his shoulder. “He’s not going to break. Isn’t that right, baby?” His hand gentled and cradled the back of the hunter’s head. 

“Go on, use him.”

Then he was gone again. Stiles didn’t need to be told twice. He tightened his grip and began to thrust. He looked down and found Chris kneeling behind the man. He catches what the man is saying and nearly comes on the spot. 

“You’re doing so well, choking on his cock. So good for us. He’s wanted this for a long time, did you know? I could smell it on him when we walked through the door.”  _ Werewolf. He’s a wolf. “ _ I bet he’s dreamed about this, about you on your knees, how you would look while he’s riding your cock.” Chris’s hand slid around to grip Peter, too hard to be teasing but lacking the intent to bring him off. “He’s been so patient. Let’s not make him wait anymore, okay baby?” 

Stiles came with a gasp. When he had caught his breath he watched as Chris brought Peter off with a deft twist of his wrist and a few whispered words. The men stood, Chris directing Peter into a chair that Stiles hadn’t noticed in the corner of the room. It looked comfortable and there was a blanket draped over the back. He wondered if they did this often. Then Chris was stalking back toward him. 

Chris kissed like he was making a claim, directing his partner’s body like it was second nature. Stiles didn’t mind, not when he was moving down his throat and leaving little marks in the space between ink. “Knew you’d be pretty under those layers.” There’s the hint of a growl in his voice and it made Stiles shiver. “Knew you’d make pretty noises for me.” 

A slick finger brushed his hole and Stiles let himself sink into the mattress. “That’s it, sweetheart. Jus’ relax for me.” Stiles wouldn’t have done anything different. He turned his head and caught Peter’s eyes, the hunter gave a lazy grin. 

“He’s good, isn’t he? Gonna fuck you until you can’t remember your own name and then a little more just for fun.” Stiles believed that. He knew it when Chris entered him, holding his hips like they belonged to him and laying kisses to his back like he was waiting for permission to  _ ruin  _ the artist. Stiles pushed back, “ _ Please, Chris.” _

Chris fucked like it was a conquest too. He snapped his hips hard and fast, pulled Stiles where he wanted him and left marks as he pleased. With all of it Stiles thought it might force the man to be quiet. Oh he was wrong. Chris snarled and when it made Stiles wine and arch he  _ laughed _ . “Knew you’d love this. Knew you’d be perfect. Desperate, such a slut.” 

A hand wrapped around his throat just hard enough to prompt him up, back against the wolf’s chest and just enough pressure to make him gasp. Chris’s free hand wrapped around his cock. 

“Come for me, let me feel you.” 

Stiles didn’t stand a chance. 

He felt someone clean him up and cracked his eyes to find Peter and Chris both clean and sliding into bed on either side of him. 

In the morning he’d have to ask Chris to let him tattoo him one day. In the morning.   



End file.
